


Entropy

by RunawayKotaro



Category: Gintama
Genre: A lot of introspection on Gintoki's part, Also Takagin if you squint but you have to squint harder, Gen, Ginzura if you squint, Joui War, M/M, The takazura really isn't the main focus of this???? Idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayKotaro/pseuds/RunawayKotaro
Summary: From the beginning, he’d known it wouldn’t last. [And it hadn’t- whatever it was, whatever they’d had, Gintoki had decapitated it, and with canonfire and engine fuel, Takasugi had lit its funeral pyre.]





	Entropy

_ It won’t last _ . Gintoki thinks. He’s not sure where the thought comes from. But the realization comes sudden and gentle on the breeze as he stares down at Katsura and Takasugi from the top of the torii he’s lounging on [Their heads are close together, inky black merging and twining with inky black, one darker spot in the dark of the sunset,] growing larger and larger until it slaps Gintoki in the face like a windblown plastic bag.

[And he’s suffocating on it.]

 

“It won’t last.”

It’s what he says to Takasugi when Zura and Sakamoto leave them behind to duke it out in the forest. [Zura crosses his arms, “Catch up when you’re done making a racket.” Sakamoto stumbles down the track made by Zura’s retreating figure, “Hey, hey, Zura, wait for me!”]

“What?” Takasugi is nursing a bruised cheek from their scuffle. Gintoki won’t give the bastard the satisfaction of crumpling around his own aching ribs.

“This- whatever it is you have going with Zura.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It won’t last.”

It’s what he says to Takasugi because he knows Takasugi can feel it too, that something,  _ something _ is coming to an end and it will take whatever is between him and Zura with it.

Takasugi pushes himself off the forest floor. The rotting leaves and underbrush stick to his pants. He stands and strides away, into the forest, between the trees. Gintoki runs a hand through his hair and watches him leave.

For days after that Takasugi’s temper is a lit fuse that isn’t extinguished again until Zura rests a hand on his shoulder, bends his head in close, asks him if he’s feeling well. [Gintoki feels tense, weary.]

 

“It won’t last.”

It’s what he doesn’t say to Zura, even though he thinks it every time he sees a trail of long, dark hair disappearing into a temple, into the forest, into the tent the four of them share- [into Takasugi] every time he sees how soft hazel eyes cling to the lining of a dark coat, every time long fingers brush against a hand, a wrist, a shoulder. [Zura seeks Takasugi’s presence like a plant seeks the sun.]

Zura climbs the torii, stands silent above Gintoki’s shoulder and watches the sunset.

“Oi oi oi, aren’t you supposed to be watching that stupid midget?” The words break out of Gintoki’s thoughts, falling like a stalactite. [He’s not sure if it’s meant to impale him or Zura.]

“No. Why, should I?” Zura frowns down at him, and Gintoki’s not sure if he wants to laugh at that, at Zura [so stoic and uncomprehending.] “If you’d like me to leave, you can just say so.”

He runs a hand through his hair, lays back and looks at the stars, silvery and distant. “Whatever. Are you here to lecture me about something? Start talking and I'll kick you off.”

_ It won’t last _ .

Is what Gintoki doesn’t say to Zura because Zura would tell him that he doesn’t have to worry, that no matter what happens between him and Takasugi, they're still the three bad boys of Shoka Sonjuku [It doesn't matter that Takasugi and Zura knew each other first, doesn't matter that they knew each other before Katsura was Zura,] it won’t get in the way of their friendship. [The arrogant asshole, his arrogant assumptions.]

“You’re the one who started talking first,” Zura points out as he sits down, rests his hands in his lap. Their knees brush together.

“Shut up, asshole. I told you if you talked I’d kick you off.”

“Ah. It’s interesting how I’m still here.” Zura says.

Gintoki turns to him and scowls, but Zura’s not looking at the stars [not looking at him] his gaze is fixed downwards, where a dark coat and darker hair has emerged from the forest, arms full of firewood.

[Because Zura seeks Takasugi’s presence like a plant seeks the sun- but he can’t see that Takasugi is a bonfire, and Zura will burst into flames if he gets much closer.]

 

“It won’t last.”

It’s what he says to Sakamoto as the two of them look across the campfire, to the edge of the woods. Two figures blur and smudge together in the low light. Takasugi’s hand holds Zura’s wrist [grip light, like he’s wary of scaring him off] and Zura’s fingers brush Takasugi’s hair out of his eyes, behind his ear. They’re murmuring together, soft and low. In moments like these, they fit together, worn out like a puzzle put together a thousand times, worn out like your oldest, most comfortable childhood kimono. [Gintoki wonders when the threads will snap and they’ll be worn to holes.]

“Ahaha, jealous, Kintoki?” The fire twinkles in Sakamoto’s blue eyes, overtaking Zura and Takasugi’s reflection. Sakamoto’s smile stretches wide, his guffaw bumps into Gintoki like the elbow he nudges him with. “So the fights between you and Bakasugi were sexual tension! Ahaha, or were you fighting over Zura?”

Gintoki had come to the same conclusion at first, had turned the question of  _who?_ over in his head for hours. Did he get so tired when he saw them because he wanted Takasugi to touch  _ him _ like that? Every time the two of them bent their heads low together, every time Zura's eyes tracked Takasugi across the camp, did Gintoki feel his stomach clench because  _ he _ wanted Zura’s concern, his focus?

“Shut up, Tatsuma,” Gintoki growl-sighs-snaps as Sakamoto laughs. “I'm not- It’s... a feeling that I get. I've known them both so long, I just-” He waves his hand in the air. He’s not sure what he’s trying to dismiss. “-know it won't work out."  


“Ahahaha, well,” Sakamoto stops laughing, settles down and looks to the sky, “Being at war doesn't feel too good to anybody, Kintoki! Maybe you’re getting mixed up.”

Gintoki looks to the sky as well, focuses on the moon.

“Hey, maybe they’ll surprise you! Maybe they’ll come out the other end of this shitshow alright.”

“Yeah.” Gintoki said [he didn’t believe it.] “Maybe.”

 

_It won't last_.

It won't last, because Zura and Takasugi are too similar and too different, they're stubborn and soft together, they don't bicker like he and Takasugi do. [If they fought, they'd fight to kill.]

It won't last, because Zura can't see that they're running on different tracks, that they all entered the war for the same thing [Sensei], for different things., [Takasugi fights for Sensei, Gintoki fights for Sensei's school, Zura fights for Sensei's students.]

It won't last because Takasugi can see that they're all running on different tracks, and he'll never leave his.

It won't last, because they can't last, because Gintoki's hope of ever rescuing Sensei fades and fractures with each day that it's been since he was arrested, because the three of them depend on Sensei even now. [Takasugi and Gintoki chase Shouyou's back and Zura trails behind them, pulling them up when they fall down.]

 

Like Gintoki knew, it doesn’t last, because it went like this: Gintoki was handed a sword and a choice. He could cut down his comrades or he could cut their hopes their goals their future apart and he took the only option he ever could.

It went like this: They spent hours staring at a familiar head on the ground [not up in the air and unreachable like they were used to], until the blood had dried on the blanket [and on Takasugi’s weeping eye.] They’d frozen until Zura thawed them by tapping Takasugi’s shoulder [rasping something Gintoki couldn’t hear over the black cloud in his head] and Takasugi had snapped and raved and Zura had held him back until he collapsed.

It went like this: Gintoki left before he could watch them fall apart, but the next time he saw Zura [in Edo, trying to scrape together the joui movement again like a pot he had only half the shards of] Takasugi was nowhere to be found, just one of a hundred ghosts that hovered between them when he told Zura to fuck off.

It went like this: Zura never brought Takasugi up around Gintoki, just held onto him in his stoic, insistent way until Takasugi sold their heads to pirates [both Zura and Gintoki, like _they_ were a package deal] to get what he wanted [so he could trample over everything they wanted to protect, so he could burn away everything Shouyou left behind.]

It went like this: Katsura drifted towards the water like a leaf on the wind, wondering where they’d started to diverge, while Gintoki knew that they [the two of them, the three of them] had been headed here since they’d become the three bad boys of the Shouka Sonjuku. [Whatever it was, whatever they’d had, Gintoki had decapitated it, and with canonfire and engine fuel, Takasugi had lit its funeral pyre.]

 

Zura sits in Gintoki's living room, hair shorn to his shoulders [short, for the first time since Gintoki had known him.] He watches the news, a cup of green tea in his hand, bandages peeking out from the loose collar of his yukata. He criticizes the news anchor for delivering bakufu propaganda and doesn’t mention Takasugi, doesn’t say anything about their next steps.  


Shinpachi is getting groceries and Kagura took Sadaharu on a walk and Gintoki tries not to marvel at the fact that they'll come back to his apartment [his home, their home] when they're done with their chores [not distributing rations, not scouting]. And Zura- Gintoki reaches his foot across the table [littered with sukonbu and Terakado Tsuu fan magazines, Zura’s offerings to the kids] and kicks Zura in the knee [because he can, because he’s there] and thinks that maybe, this could last.


End file.
